hatesdeerstalkers | IC INBOX FOR DAYBREAK

You free for some dumb shit?

Depends on what 'dumb shit is' - however, my schedule is completely clear at the moment.

Where should we meet?

Edited 2019-10-02 03:08 (UTC)

Uhhh, somewhere that I won't be overheard, preferably? Have a reputation or some shit to uphold, after all.

Then I would recommend my office - it's quite well insulated.

[He may have...made some modifications. it's fine.]

[It's totally fine when it's exactly what she needs.]

Gimme about ten minutes and I'll head down that way?

Very well. I'll make some tea for the both of us.

[And true to his word, he does end up making tea for them - quietly waiting in his office for her to show up.]

[Luckily she doesn't take too long to get there and is just quietly making her way in without any sort of knocking. Because she's just like that.

She still doesn't seem in the best of shapes, but it's pretty clear she'd tried to wash her face to stop anything popping up properly.]

I hate this place. [Jolyne no. She does take her time to take a seat, however.]

[It doesn't take too much fishing for Therion to narrow down which of the faculty dorms belongs to the math professor. As soon as he deems it reasonably safe--there's never going to be no risk, not in his line of work, but it's long after noon and Moriarty ought to be teaching or holding office hours or something, doing calculus for fun, whatever--a nigh-unnoticeable Therion slips into the Savant apartments and starts in on #107's locks. Soon enough, he feels the mechanism click open under his fingers, and, slowly, silently, he eases the door ajar.

There, he pauses. Suddenly, this feels chillingly familiar. Half his nightmares this week have started just like this, right foot over the threshold to find nothing, nothing, and the fall.

But Therion swallows, exhales, opens and closes his hands, and forces himself into calm. He's awake, and he's done this a million times. The floor is right there. So, with all due superstition, he taps his knuckles carefully on the door for good luck, puts his right foot forward, and sneaks inside to see what's not nailed down or on fire.]

[In truth, Moriarty had known the young man was going to pay him a visit. That moment of interaction at the Paintball match had been enough to confirm it, after all.

And though he truly was in his office at the moment Therion broke in, the young man would have felt the brushing of spider silk against him as he snuck in - alerting Moriarty to the fact that he had an uninvited guest.

With a grin, he leaves the papers he was grading, and calmly begins to walk towards the Savant apartments.

But, for the moment, Therion truly is alone inside his apartment - and it looks, actually, quite plain. There's a couch and a television - two, actually, a modern flat screen and an old CRT - along with quite the array of old to modern video game systems along with their games, carefully put away.

There's the kitchen to one side, and a hallway leading off to the bedroom and bathroom. Where would he like to go first?]

[Hmm.

Well, rooms like these are about what he'd expect from a normal math professor, but not one at a school like this. Certainly not one who outfits an entire paintball competition from his own private funds. Therion glances around, looking for the obvious: motion sensor alarms, safes, expensive art. Ultimately, what he tries first is the bedroom. He wants to be in and out, after all, and generally, people feel safer hiding things where they sleep than in areas they might use to entertain.

That door gets a careful examination for traps, too, before his standard good luck knock and entry.]

The college, or my Office?

[He says it with a minor bit of humor, but quickly pushes a hot cup towards her on his desk - letting her decide to take it or not.]

Jokes aside, it's clear you've been having a rough patch of sorts.

[No safes or expensive art in the area, though there's also no motion sensor alarms or traps on the door to his bedroom - though pushing it open just reveals...

..A very plain bedroom, with a bed and two dressers, along with a desk with a nice, back-supporting chair and a laptop.

There's also a very torn shirt hanging on the back of the door with what looks like dried bloodstains, but given what happened during the Hunt, that might not be surprising. It looks like Moriarty tried to clean and repair it a little before giving up on it, judging by the blotches here and there and the clumsy stitching.

Definitely not what you expect from someone with apparently a bit of money stashed away, but he's also clearly not the kind of person to just leave things out willy nilly.]

...

[Therion wrinkles his nose, but carefully lifts one sleeve of the shirt for a better look at the thing. After what he saw during the Grimm attack, he's curious. Does the damage seem like it should've been fatal to whoever was wearing this shirt?]

[Tea isn't her normal style but she'll take the offer anyway, hands gently clasping the cup. Enough to feel the burn if nothing else.]

Understatement. Lots of shit all at once within a few days, not even a week and it feels like everything is falling apart around me.

[Not really - a lot of the rips and cuts are focused on the arms, though there are some stains on the torso from bleeding and a few minor tears. Painful, but survivable.

...Of course, there are other ways to die that won't leave rips and marks on a shirt, but, regardless, this doesn't look like it was looted from a corpse.]

Ah yes - 'Trouble always comes in bunches', is it?

[He takes a sip of his own tea, thinking before he next speaks.]

I have certainly felt like that before, myself. It's not a pleasant place to be for any period of time, and even worse when it feels like you have nothing solid to hold onto.

[He's not going to outright ask her - letting her spill the issue, but making it clear he understands and wants to help, but he respects her enough to allow her to do it on her own time.]

[He breathes out and mutters to himself--] Getting paranoid, dealing with all this magic crap.

[Anyway, he leaves the shirt alone after that and moves to the desk. Computers always have some value, and most people these days have online access to their bank accounts, but Therion knows he's no hacker. He'll grab it if he can't find anything else, but there are still avenues to explore. He starts with the desk drawers, studying them all briskly and methodically: first, another check for trap wires or alarms, a look inside (after an unlocking, if necessary), and finally a search for hidden compartments. After all, if he had valuables to protect, he'd want to keep them close where he spent the most time. Just in case.]

[No wires or alarms, but Thereon is right - in a hidden compartment in a seemingly empty desk drawer reveals a small panel, where about 2000 Euros lay in a small bundle of 100's.

The rest of the drawers are simple, and only have minor things (paper, pens, computer acessories, little odds and ends, and a bag of molasses candy, strangely enough. There doesn't seem to be anything else of interest.]

[Well, hello. Pleased, even if it's not the ridiculous stash of antiques and jewels he was imagining, Therion helps himself to some--but not all--of the money, and to the candy, too. He may not be a starving waif anymore, but old habits die hoard. I mean, hard.

After resetting everything just as he found it, he shoots a quick glance towards the door to ensure he's clear to keep snooping. No mother-lode yet, after all.]

[There doesn't seem to be any noise coming from behind the door, so he's free to keep snooping.

...for now.]

[Nice. The dressers get the same treatment, too, then. Congratulations, Moriarty, now at least one of your students knows what your underwear looks like.]

[Well, you now know Moriarty is a briefs kind of guy instead of boxers. Other than that, it's mostly boring in most of the dressers - the normal kind of stuff, though he'll find another 2k in US dollars this time tightly rolled up in a specific pair of pants.

However, two drawers have false bottoms. One leads to a shitton of knives: everything from larger, sharp cutting knives to throwing knives are here. Another has an assortment of Guns - Mostly pistols, but there's also a rifle with a sniping aim attachment on it. All of them are properly maintained and loaded, and...don't have the safety on...?]

[Aha. What have we here? A secret armory is much closer to what Therion was expecting from the faculty here at Daybreak. He looks over the guns without touching them; firearms aren't his thing, and, honestly, so many of them just lying around, ready for use, makes him nervous. On the other hand, the knife collection warms his heart like a call from an old friend.

He was cautious enough portioning himself a share of the professor's cash, but a missing knife's far more likely to be noticed, no matter what he does to hide the theft. Still, after some deliberation, he takes a couple throwing knives and one more blade on the smaller side. He likes them easily concealed, useful for many a purpose.

He holds it briefly up to the light, admiring the edge, and then tucks it away. He has money, he has weapons--it's amazing how a little retail therapy can make Therion feel so much more like himself. He stands and makes sure everything's secure before he turns.]

[Honestly, she's prefers things working more like this. It's part of the reason why she's decided to just... not... go to their therapist here anymore. It didn't seem to be doing much for her and she'd rather not feel like she's being continually judged.

He won't say anything, that much she knows for certain, which is why she's letting out a slow sigh to let her relax maybe just a bit.]

On top of the whole... Hunt thing, I also might have threatened someone's guard, snapped at someone else through the private messages stuff, and also then had to deal with my boyfriend at the time breaking up with me because... well, evidently I just don't understand and that I'm getting in the way of his getting better because of my actions and how they'd reflect on him. Oh and some shit about how I just don't want to get better or whatever.

[She's huffing and just going to take a drink of that tea just to get her words back together.]

It's not like I hadn't been trying, it's just... slow. And not something that'd just happen overnight and it's fucking difficult to explain when all the shit fucked up with me isn't just my own goddamned doing.

[And as he turns -

There's suddenly someone in front of the door. The man who lives in this apartment, Therion's math professor - James Moriarty, quietly grinning at how content the young man in front of him seemed.

How did he get there without a single sound? Well, it was obvious, really. Not needing to breathe removed a lot of the noise associated with humans, though he made sure to start again once Therion had turned around.]

Enjoyed yourself, hm?

[He says it so lightly that it would be easy to imagine him as a bemused grandfather having caught a grandchild going through his old things, instead of a victim catching the culprit mid-theft.]

Take a seat - it appears we'll have to have a chat.

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